


Ghosts of Our Pasts

by Amhran_na_bhFiann



Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstory, Family Secrets, Gen, Goldeneye AU, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Lienz Cossacks, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26887558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amhran_na_bhFiann/pseuds/Amhran_na_bhFiann
Summary: GoldenEye AU - Alec takes James hostage after Statue Park. Secrets from Alec’s Cossack past are revealed.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Ghosts of Our Pasts

**Author's Note:**

> I re-watched all the Pierce Brosnan James Bond movies while in quarantine and the character of Alec Trevelyan just stuck with me. This originally started as a small drabble but sorta took on a life of its own.
> 
> I’m an Army lad and have limited experience with the Navy so I apologise for any inaccuracies describing Bond’s Navy experience.

The first thing James noticed was the coldness of the ground. He shivered as he felt his body’s warmth seep away into the stone floor. 

Why was he so cold? 

As he brought his hands into his chest in an attempt to stay warm, he realised why he was so cold. He was naked. 

He felt his skin pimple as he shivered once again. The sound of teeth chattering was the only noise in the empty cell. James recognised the telltale signs. His body was going into shock. 

James desperately tried curling into a fetal position. He had to stay warm. 

A new wave of panic swept through him as he felt something tug at his ankles. His ankles were chained to a loop on the floor. James bolted upright as he frantically tugged at the chains around his ankles. However, the chain wouldn’t budge. As he tried wrapping his arms around his chest, he noticed his wrists were also handcuffed together. 

His heart was pounding in his chest as he finally recognized the seriousness of the situation. He had been captured; his clothes, weapons, and gadgets stripped away. 

Under pressure, an agent doesn’t rise to the occasion; no, he sinks to the level of his training. 

As a Double O agent, James was required to undergo conduct after capture training every 4 years. Without warning, he’d be kidnapped by a group of masked men from his barren London flat.

Despite MI6’s attempts at making the training as realistic as possible, it was nevertheless training. And, James knew that. He knew that he would just have to play along for a week or so before the men would take off their masks and share a laugh with the famed 007. Oh, they would threaten to do this and that; but they were always just empty threats.

James shook his head. He had to focus. 

First thing was to assess the situation. He looked around. He was in a cell. That was the best way to describe it. There was a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, just out of reach. All four walls were built from the same cold stone as the floor. In front of him was a metal door. James tried dragging himself towards it but the chain around his ankle stopped him a mere metre away. As he stretched his arm out, the tips of his fingers just barely scraped the door. 

Situation analysis: trapped. 

Great. 

Step two was to figure out _how_ he got here and _who_ took him. 

_Well, it’s not MI6,_ he joked to himself. 

He tried to think back, to remember the events that landed him here.

He had been in Statue Park. That woman...Xenia…she had brought him there to meet Janus. 

Janus. 

Alec.

Alive. 

006.

The pieces started falling into place. Alec Trevelyan was alive and well, having taken up the mantle of Janus. The two-faced Roman god. How fitting. 

Somehow, he had faked his death in Arkhangelsk; the scars littering his face was proof he was indeed present when the weapons factory exploded. 

James had trusted Alec. Trusted Alec more than anyone else. The two Double O agents had trained side by side. While James had been recruited from the Royal Navy, Alec was a Royal Marine Commando. They had both excelled during their Double O training. 

“ _For England, James?_ ” Alec had always said, with his signature grin. 

James never knew Alec was a descendant of Lienz Cossacks. They were the Cossacks who collaborated with Nazi forces and surrendered to the British at the end of the Second World War. Despite the British’s promise to protect them from the approaching Red Army, they were nevertheless repatriated to the Soviet Union, where they were promptly executed. Alec’s parents had escaped yet his father, overwhelmed with guilt, had killed his wife then himself. 

Alec rarely talked about his family or his upbringing and James never asked. They had been working together for almost 5 years before James got a glimpse of Alec’s plightful childhood one night after Alec had one too many drinks at his flat. He told a story of how he was orphaned as a young boy, barely remembering his parents, and raised as a ward of the state. Bouncing from home to home until he ran away and joined the Royal Marines at the age of 15. 

_Must have lied about his age,_ James had thought to himself. _Otherwise, he’d have been too young._

James wondered. When did Alec find out about his Cossack heritage? He sure as hell didn’t know that drunken night. He didn’t know anything about his parents.

At Statue Park, Alec had said MI6 knew about his Cossack heritage but recruited him anyway. A sick twist of irony. Yet, even if Alec’s family escaped repatriation to the Soviet Union, how did they make it to the UK? It was the British that turned their backs on the Cossacks.

There were many holes in Alec’s story and James began wondering if there was more to the story than what Alec had presented. 

Or, perhaps he was just clinging onto any shred of hope that his former friend wasn’t a traitor. 

* * *

James awoke to the sound of the metal door being unlocked. He was immediately on his feet. As adrenaline began racing through his body, the coldness that had previously restricted his movement was gone.

James threw his body against the first man who appeared, sending him tumbling to the ground. He jumped on top of him, lacing the handcuff chain around the man’s neck. As he pulled back, he heard the man start to gurgle. 

Someone pulled him away from the guard on the ground. He turned around and sent his elbow crashing directly into the man’s face. He smiled as he felt the man’s nose break under the pressure. 

Without warning, a shoulder came crashing into his sternum. He gasped as he felt the air being forced out of his lungs. James landed on the stone floor with a loud _thud._ Before he could catch his breath, he felt hands grab him and drag him towards the far wall. 

“No!” James screamed. He desperately tried pushing away the approaching hands however, there were too many of them. 

He felt a prick in the neck. He fought against the darkness slowly encroaching his vision, however it was hopeless. As he finally succumbed to the drugs, the last thing he saw was Alec, standing with his arms crossed, in the doorway.

* * *

Alec Trevelyan stood silently in the stone cell. He had been standing here for the past hour. He was transfixed by the sleeping form laying in front of him. For nine years, Alec had dreamt of the day he would come face to face with his former colleague and friend. 

For the past nine years, he had planned how he would get revenge on James Bond. A single bullet to the head was far too easy. No, Alec wanted James to suffer. He wanted James to suffer just like those first few months after Arkhangelsk. When the doctors had said he wouldn’t make it. When he could no longer cry out in pain because his voice was so raw from screaming. 

Alec had made it. But, every time he looked in the mirror, his scarred face was a permanent reminder of James’s betrayal. Setting the timer to 3 minutes instead of 6. 

He had thought of putting James in the Tiger helicopter along with the Severnaya girl but Alec had decided against that. He wanted to see James suffer. He wanted to see the look in James’s eyes as the last shimmers of life were extinguished. 

The tranq had hit James straight in the neck. The drug had been quick-acting and James was on the ground in mere seconds. 

Alec kneeled down and brushed back a lock of James’s dark hair from his forehead. He felt the other man shiver under his touch. He must be cold. The make-shift cell was originally part of a bunker built during the Cold War. Sometime in the 1970s, the bunker was renovated into a secret KGB prison. The KGB hadn’t bothered installing a heating system in the holding cells. The dampness from groundwater seeping through the concrete cracks didn’t help.

Alec knew if he wanted to have his fun with James, he couldn’t let him die from hypothermia. He stood up and left the cell. Walking into his small office, that doubled as his bedroom, he picked up the spare fireblanket that sat folded on his cot. Walking back to James’s cell, he wasn’t surprised that the agent hadn’t moved from his sleeping position. He kneeled down and carefully draped the blanket over James. Alec watched as James subconsciously grabbed the blanket, embracing the warmth it brought him. 

Despite having not seen him in 9 years, James looked unchanged. Still with that dark boyish charm. James had always been more successful with the fairer sex. There was something about James that just drew women to him. Alec had at first been jealous but he realised James used women to fill the void of loneliness he inevitably experienced as a Double O agent. Every Double O agent had their own vices. For James, it was women. For Alec, it was revenge.

“Alec?” James mumbled, his voice small and confused. Alec looked down and saw the glassy, dazed look in James’s eyes. The drugs were clearly still in effect. 

Alec smiled, gently patting James on the cheek. “Yes, James. It’s Alec.” 

“I thought you were dead...” James trailed off. 

“No, James. I’ve been here all along.” As Alec stood up to leave, he felt James weakly grasp onto his trousers.

“Don’t go, Alec,” James begged in a hushed whisper, “Don’t leave me here.”

Suddenly, Alec heard something. Something that he had never heard before. He heard sniffling. 

James was crying. 

“Please Alec…”

Alec kneeled back down. Despite the single, dim light source, he could still see the tears flowing down James’s face. 

Alec suddenly felt guilty. 

Guilt wasn’t an emotion that he often experienced. He crawled his way to the top of the Russian crime syndicate not by feeling guilty for the men he killed. He got here by focusing solely on the goal ahead of him and ruthlessly disregarding human life. 

Survivor’s guilt was what killed his parents.

Yet, here he was, caressing 007, guilt seeping through his body.

Alec sighed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. He slowly popped off the cap before easing the tip into James’s upper leg. 

“Relax,” he whispered into his ear. 

He felt James’s grip on his trousers slowly weaken before he finally let go, slumping over against the wall. 

“Sleep well.”

As Alec stood up, brushing the dust from his trousers, he saw a dark, feminine figure standing in the open doorway. 

“Xenia,” he said, instantly recognising her silhouette.

“Why don’t we just kill him?” Xenia Onatopp asked, her Georgian accent thick, as she walked into the cell, “Just like we killed that Severnaya girl.”

The thought of Xenia killing James made Alec flush with anger. “No,” he barked. He pointed straight at her chest with a knife-hand to emphasise his point. “You will not touch him!” he demanded. 

Xenia raised her hands in defeat, understanding Alec’s clear threat. “He is yours, Janus. I will not touch him.”

“Thank you,” Alec mumbled under his breath. He brushed past Xenia, cheeks still flushed with anger. 

He didn’t know what he was going to do with James. But, he sure as hell intended to keep him alive. 

* * *

James heard his chains shriek as he pulled them across the floor of his cell. He shivered, grabbing onto the blanket that was wrapped around him. Wait? A blanket? 

He forced himself to crack his eyes open. He was immediately met with a familiar concrete wall. He was still in the same cell. As he opened his eyes wider, he saw that he was sure enough wrapped in a fireblanket. 

James pushed himself up into a seated position. How did he end up with a fireblanket? What was Alec trying to pull?

As he brushed his hand across his chin, his 5 o’clock shadow indicated it had been no more than 48 hours. He knew if Alec wanted him dead, he’d already be dead. He wasn’t here for information either; all his information would be outdated by now. MI6 would have figured out that James had been captured and changed all their codes. 

That only left one possibility. Alec wanted to torture him. Not for information but for revenge. Revenge for what happened at Arkhangelsk. Revenge for what Britain did to his family. Alec would keep him alive but just enough for him to make it to the next torture session. That explained the mysterious fireblanket. 

He wondered how long Alec planned on keeping him. _However long my body can last,_ James thought to himself. 

He shuddered at the revelation. 

James closed his eyes, resting his head on the concrete wall. He found his mind wandering back to Alec and his mysterious journey to the UK. 

His parents could have escaped from the British at Lienz. They could have passed themselves off as refugees of another Slavic ethnicity and made their way to Britain following the war. Unless someone smuggled them into the country, they wouldn’t have been able to enter Britain while labelled as Cossacks. But if they hid their Cossack heritage, how did MI6 know?

MI6 was good but not that good. Record-keeping following the war was a mess. It was easy for someone to hide their background and take up a new moniker. Despite attempts by West German and Mossad intelligence, the infamous Josef Mengele wasn’t identified until 1985. And that was Josepf Mengele. No one would have paid any mind to a young Cossack couple claiming to be Polish or Czech. MI6 wouldn’t have made the connection. 

It didn’t make sense. Unless someone smuggled them into Britain. _Perhaps they were smuggled,_ James thought to himself. A sympathetic British officer could have pulled a few strings and gotten them across the border. That connection would have made MI6 tracking Alec’s family history just slightly easier. 

* * *

James awoke once more to the cell door scraping on the cold floor. He pulled himself up, still feeling groggy from the drug-induced slumber. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to focus.

He saw a hand at the door. The hand threw a small brown cardboard box along with a couple bottles of water towards him. James immediately recognised it as a military MRE. That was a good sign. Alec wanted to keep him alive. 

He scrambled towards it, his stomach rumbling as he hadn’t eaten anything since being captured. As he ripped open the MRE with his still-cuffed hands, he found the main meal. Pulled pork. Not bad. One of the better meals if he recalled from his days in the British Armed Forces. 

As he took his first bite, James decided there and then that pulled pork was now his favourite meal. 

_“Don’t eat it too fast.”_

James recognised the voice instantly. It was Alec. Looking up, he saw the hand did indeed belong to the former Double O agent. “Alec,” he greeted.

“James,” he responded, as he slowly sauntered in. 

James kept quiet, instead focused on finishing his pulled pork. He kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with the other man. As he finished up the packet, he licked the plastic spoon clean and placed it back into the box, intent on using it to eat his dessert after Alec left.

Speaking of Alec, he had sat down by the door of the cell, just out of reach from James. 

“When did you find out?” James asked, breaking the tense silence.

“Find out what?” Alec asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

“That your parents were Lienz Cossacks.” James could tell Alec was taken aback by the statement. Despite his attempts at masking his emotion, James noticed the small, little flinch in his left eye. His tell. However, Alec remained silent; instead, staring at the stone ground in front of him. 

“Was it before or after you joined MI6?” James asked, trying to prompt a response. “You said yourself MI6 knew of your Cossack background.”

Alec suddenly started to laugh. It wasn’t the same care-free laugh 006 used to let out while cracking jokes before a training exercise. No, it was much more sinister.

“I was waiting for M to call me into his office,” he explained. “I noticed my file on Ms Moneypenny’s desk. I didn’t think anything of it so I picked it up and started reading. It was mostly filled with the results of annual training re-certifications, performance evaluations...the usual. Then I got to the family history section. I knew my parents died when I was young but I didn’t know anything else about them.”

“Your own MI6 dossier,” James quietly whispered to himself. 

“In big bold letters, it read, _‘Father killed mother then committed suicide due to survivor’s guilt. Agent has no recollection of his parents being Lienz Cossacks. Security risk: minimal’._ ” Alec stood up from his seated position. “They fucking knew, James. They knew but they recruited me anyway! The son goes out to work for the government that murdered his parents,” he exploded.

“Alec, think about it,” James tried to reason. 

“What is there to think about, 007?” he said, emphasizing James’s codename in disgust, as he paced around the room. 

James wasn’t trying to agitate Alec, although he was sure it would come off that way. Between his drug-induced slumbers, James had time to think. Think about what Alec said. And more importantly, poke holes into what he told him at Statue Park. 

“How did your parents end up in England? Why would Britain even let your parents in if they knew they were Lienz Cossacks?” 

Alec stopped. “Get to your point,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“Your parents escaped to Britain because someone smuggled them in. They escaped Lienz because someone in the British Army kept their promise of protecting them from the Red Army. They survived because of the British,” James paused. He could see the anger rising in Alec. “You really think siding with the Russians, siding with General Ourumov, would be what your parents want?” 

“I’ve had enough of this,” Alec whispered, ignoring James’s intrusive probing. 

Yup, that did it. He pissed him off. 

James braced himself for the inevitable attack. In a movement that was too quick for James’s still-dazed state to react to, Alec jabbed another needle into James’s neck. 

* * *

Alec starred at the newspaper article in front of him. It was a photocopy he had made at a London library while researching his childhood. When his loyalties still lay in Queen and Country. 

_BOY LEFT ORPHANED IN MURDER-SUICIDE_

_Nicholas Kazakov of Cornwall killed his wife, Anna Kazakova, then turned the gun on himself in a bizarre murder-suicide. The only survivor was their 3 year old son, Alec. When police arrived on scene, they found a despondent Alec crouched by his mother, trying to wake her up._

_Police are still investigating but in their preliminary press release, they cite Nicholas’s survivor's guilt as a possible motive. Nicholas and Anna immigrated to Great Britain from continental Europe following the Second World War. Nicholas was rumoured to have witnessed a massacre during the war and was racked by survivor’s guilt._

_Kazakov._ The name literally translated into _Cossack._

Somewhere along the line, probably in an attempt to anglicize him so he could fit in with the other kids, his surname must have been changed to _Trevelyan._ He wasn’t sure why they chose the name _Trevelyan._ Regardless of their reasoning, it was the name he grew up with. _Alec Trevelyan._

Alec had thought about going back to the name _Kazakov_ but he wanted to keep his Cossack heritage to himself. Lienz Cossacks were still viewed as traitors by the general Russian public. His own people wouldn’t trust him if they were to find out about his heritage. 

He instead chose the name _Janus._

Alec couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to what James had said. He knew that the entire conversation was meant to solicit an emotional response as a way to create an escape opportunity. Either to get him angry so he would make a mistake or talking him out of his schemes by presenting his own narrative of Alec’s family.

Alec had very nearly fallen for it. If it weren’t for his years of Double O training, he would have. But he had caught on and instead, gave James another dosage to shut him up. 

Still, James had brought up an overlooked point. How did his parents make it to the UK if they were Lienz Cossacks?

The Yalta Conference had stipulated that all Cossacks were to be repatriated to the Soviet Union following the Second World War. His parents would have been turned right back at the UK border and sent straight to the Siberian Gulags. 

Yet, they made it to the UK, settled in Cornwall, then had him. 

From immigration documents, Alec knew his parents arrived in the UK in the Winter of 1946. He had tried to find out more about his parents before their arrival to the UK but ended up at dead end after dead end. _Kazakov_ was such a common Cossack name which made tracking his parent’s movements impossible. _Kazakov_ might have also been an alias. Especially if his father was involved with the ruthless Nazi Cossacks. He would have tried hiding his identity. 

_“You really think siding with the Russians, siding with General Ourumov, would be what your parents want?”_

James’s voice rang through his ears. No, of course it wasn’t what they wanted. The Cossacks allied with Nazi Germany to fight against the Red Army; to free their homeland from Stalin’s communist regime. In retribution for these actions, they were executed and imprisoned by the Soviets. Only after being betrayed by Her Majesty’s Armed Forces. 

The Russians were the only party that had the technological resources needed for his plan to succeed. The mission at Arkhangelsk was the perfect opportunity for him to defect. The day before he touched down in Arkhangelsk, he had walked into the Soviet embassy, announcing his intentions. They had welcomed him with open arms. A Double O agent was a valuable asset. Especially during the Cold War. 

The plan was simple. Surrender to Ourumov. Fake his execution. 

But, leave it to James. Ever so loyal. Changing the timers from 6 to 3 minutes. 

Alec let out an audible sigh. Britain had long been his focus of revenge. What happened at Arkhangelsk had just intensified his hatred of Britain. But, perhaps James was right. Maybe his parents were smuggled in. Maybe someone in the British Army did keep their promise. 

_“Janus,”_ said a female voice from behind him. 

Turning around, Alec saw it was Xenia. “What are you doing here?” he grumbled. Despite heading the Janus crime syndicate, the years he had spent as a Double O agent had made him appreciate being alone. 

“You have been in here all afternoon. I’m worried about you,” she explained. 

“I’m fine,” he replied, turning back to the table. “Just need some time to think,” he said, rubbing his temples.

Xenia didn’t leave though. Instead, she slowly stalked towards Alec. “It’s Bond isn’t it?” she asked, running her hand through his blond hair.

Alec leaned into Xenia’s touch. Her perfume was overwhelming yet it was strangely comforting. “Yea…” he mumbled into her shoulder. 

“Come. I’ll help you forget about Bond.” 

Alec didn’t protest as Xenia pulled him into a passionate kiss.

* * *

James drank the last of the bottled water Alec had given him. An unfortunate side effect of the drugs had been dry mouth. As he finished off the last drops of water, he placed the empty bottle into the cardboard MRE box. Despite his stomach growls, he’d already finished the contents of the MRE. 

Judging by his beard growth, at least 24 hours must have passed since Alec had given him the MRE. He had woken up a handful of times but always to an empty cell. The drugs kept him subdued and he quickly had fallen back into a restless slumber. 

The drugs had since worn off, leaving James in a muddled fog. He tugged at the chain attaching his ankle to the ground. However, it didn’t budge. He sighed. _Situation no change._

James knew there was no hope of rescue. Double Os weren’t supposed to be captured. Those that were captured were disavowed. Abandoned. Left to die.

His only hope was that Alec would somehow have a change of heart and let him go. 

James scoffed at the idea.

* * *

Alec needed answers. That was how he justified sitting on an aeroplane from Saint Petersburg to London. He needed answers about his parents. 

For the first time since he had read his MI6 file, he began having doubts about his plan for revenge. It wasn’t because of James, he tried to tell himself. But, he knew he was lying. James and his big mouth were the reasons why he was here.

This would be the first time since his defection he returned to his country of birth. Even though MI6 still thought he was dead, he knew returning to England as _Alec Trevelyan_ was a death sentence. He had a fake East German passport that listed his name as _Eric Franks_. He had acquired the passport after the collapse of the USSR. The East German passports were easier to fake than the West ones. The 5-year grace period after German reunification made them ideal for people like Alec, who wanted to travel to Western Europe without dealing with the red tape of a Russian passport. 

He had given strict instructions for his guards to care for James in his grungy cell. He didn’t define what he meant by _care_ . _As long as he’s alive when I get back,_ he had explained. 

* * *

James heard his chains shriek as he pulled them across the floor of his cell. 

He hadn’t seen Alec since he had given him the MRE. He wasn’t sure how long ago that was. He had lost track of time due to the constant druggings. He would be awake for no more than a few hours before someone came in and stuck a needle into his thigh. Sometimes, they’d have some fun with him and beat him senseless. He was too weak to even fight it anymore. 

He felt his stomach rumble as he remembered he hadn’t eaten or drank anything since being given the MRE. He was hungry, cold, and tired - the drugs amplifying his sensations. 

He longed for Alec to return. He wanted to apologise for angering Alec. He wanted Alec to care for him again. The guards didn’t give a shit about his well being. 

He could feel his body begin to shut down. He knew he couldn’t last much longer without Alec.

As he wavered back and forth on the border of consciousness, his mind brought him back to when he first met Alec. 

* * *

_James huffed his chest as he walked down the hall. His arms were burning from carrying his two duffle bags, stuffed to the brim with his newly issued equipment. On his back, was his rucksack._

_It was D-1 of MI6 Double O recruit training. He had the rest of the day to settle into his room before the training started tomorrow morning._

_0530 formed up ready for roll call._

_He wasn’t sure what to expect when he had been called into his commanding officer’s office two weeks ago. He had told him about a new MI6 program. The Double O program. They were recruiting primarily from the Royal Navy and the Royal Marines. Surprisingly, under preferred trades, they had listed Intelligence Officers._

_Despite James starting off his Naval career as a paper-pushing Intelligence Officer, he quickly grew tired of being trapped behind a desk. He yearned to challenge himself and soon found himself volunteering for the Special Boat Service. He had excelled while serving in the SBS._

_An Intelligence Officer turned SBS operator was unheard of in the Special Forces world and James had gotten his fair share of confused looks when someone reviewed his file. However, he was the perfect fit for the Double O program. The operations office had submitted James’s nomination to MI6 and he was accepted less than 6 hours later._

_James felt the grip on the left duffle begin to loosen. He picked up the pace, trying to find his room. After 10 paces, his grip gave way, causing the duffle bag to fall onto the ground with a loud thump._

_He silently swore. As he leaned down to pick up the bag, he heard someone approach him from behind. Dropping the right bag, he swung around._

_Standing in front of him was another man with blond hair, dressed in the same woodland camouflage pattern. He must be another recruit. “You alright, mate?” the man asked._

_“I’m fine,” James said, turning back around to pick up both duffles. He wasn’t one to admit he needed help, let alone accept it._

_“Here, let me help you,” the man responded, grabbing the right duffle before James could protest. “Which room are you in?”_

_“Room 375,” James recited. He began walking forwards however, he noticed that the blond man stayed put. He spun back around. “You coming?” he asked impatiently._

_“375 is this way,” the man responded, pointing in the opposite direction._

_James said another silent curse. What a great way to start out. Leave it to the Int Officer to get lost. “I’ll follow you,” he replied, shifting the duffle to his right hand to give his left arm a break._

_“By the way, I’m Alec. Alec Trevelyan,” the man said, sticking out his free hand._

_“The name’s Bond, James Bond,” he replied with a smile._

* * *

The next time James woke up, he didn’t even have the strength to prop himself up. He laid on the stone floor, still wrapped in the fireblanket, and watched helplessly as the door to his cell opened. He mentally prepared himself for another drugging and beating. 

But, it never came. As the door opened wider, James recognised the dark silhouette. “Alec,” he mumbled. “You came back.”

Alec walked in, a scowl on his face. He walked over to James and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look straight into his eyes. 

Something was different about Alec. His eyes were red and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted. Something had happened to Alec since the last time James saw him. James knew it was best for him not to ask.

“Listen very closely to me 007 because I will only say this once,” Alec began, “You will return to London and report that the GoldenEye has been destroyed. You will say you were captured by _Janus_ but never saw his face. You escaped after overpowering a guard. As you exited the bunker, you passed by the GoldenEye control station where you sabotaged the guidance system, causing the satellite to be destroyed upon re-entry. You will not mention anything about Alec Trevelyan. In exchange for your cooperation, I will not use the GoldenEye and will go back to being an arms dealer. If you deviate from anything I just said, I will use the GoldenEye to bring England back to the Stone Age. Do you have any questions?”

James weakly shook his head. 

“Good.” Alec produced a syringe and stabbed it into James’s thigh. James welcomed the darkness. 

* * *

James remained true to his word. He lied through his teeth about GoldenEye and Janus during his de-briefing and didn’t breathe a word about seeing Alec alive and in the flesh. 

He was placed on medical leave for 2 weeks to allow his body to recover from the ordeal. He was severely dehydrated and had lost nearly a stone during captivity. He had sustained a broken rib during one of the beatings. The doctor also warned him that he may experience withdrawals due to the constant druggings. 

Before returning to his flat, he had charmed Ms Moneypenny into giving him a copy of Alec’s MI6 file. He played it off as not wanting to forget the memory of his friend. Moneypenny happily obliged. 

Alec’s family history section was fairly empty. It listed his parent’s names as Nicholas and Anna Kazakov and Alec’s birth name as Alec Kazakov. James wondered how Alec had gotten the surname _Trevelyan._ The file made no mention of his surname change. 

However, the file did state in bold letters:

_Father killed mother then committed suicide due to survivor’s guilt. Agent has no recollection of his parents being Lienz Cossacks. Security risk: minimal._

Alec hadn’t been lying. 

James continued reading Alec’s biography. He had been made a ward of the state following his parent’s deaths and was initially placed in an orphanage in Cornwall. The rest of the biography mirrored what Alec had told him over 9 years ago. Bounced from home to home before finally running away at 15 and joining the Royal Marines. 

James decided to pay a visit to Alec’s former orphanage.

* * *

“I’m looking for information about one of your former wards,” he said to the woman at the front desk. 

“Of course, my love. What was his or her name?”

“His legal name was Alec Trevelyan but he went by Alec Kazakov as well.”

“Let me go look through our records. I’ll be just a few minutes.” The woman walked to the filing cabinet behind her and skimmed through the files. “Here we go!” She walked back, carrying a manilla folder. She handed it to James.

James opened up the folder. He was immediately greeted by a black and white photo of Alec. He looked to be no more than 7 or 8 in the photo. He was frowning, his eyes filled with sorrow. James wondered what sort of pain the young Alec lived through and buried away. He had seen a small glimpse of the pain Alec lived through as a boy when he had drank too much at his flat. That was the first and last time.

He read through the first entry. It contained Alec’s tombstone information and a small paragraph with his biography. The biography talked about his parent’s death and the subsequent orphaning of the 3 year old boy. However, one sentence caught his eye.

_Boy under the sponsorship of Alexander Trevelyan._

James stared at the eerily familiar name. _Alexander Trevelyan._ Or for short, _Alec Trevelyan._ Trevelyan was a common surname in Cornwall but he knew the similarities in their names had to be more than a coincidence. Whoever this man was, he was Alec’s namesake. James wondered who the man was.

“What does this mean?” he asked, pointing to the sentence. 

The woman craned her neck as she looked over what James was pointing at. “Ah I see,” she said, “Some orphans were sponsored by private citizens. Their contribution would cover the cost of housing and feeding the youngsters. Most of the sponsors were family friends who weren’t able to adopt the orphaned child but wanted to look after them.”

“Do you know who _Alexander Trevelyan_ is?” he asked, “Or his relationship with Alec?”

The woman shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. There is a Trevelyan family that lives a few blocks over. Maybe they’re the same Trevelyan’s? Let me write down the directions.” The woman took out a pad of paper and scribbled down the directions. “Here,” she said, ripping the paper off from the pad. 

James smiled and accepted the paper. “Thank you.”

* * *

James knocked on the door. Moments later, it was opened by a teenage girl. “Can I help you?” she asked, eyeing James with suspicion. 

“I’m looking for Alexander Trevelyan. He was a friend of my late colleague, Alec Trevelyan.”

The girl seemed to recognise both names. That was a good sign. “Grandpa! Someone is here to see you about Alec!” she yelled into the house. Turning around to face James, she motioned for him to come in. “I think grandpa is in the kitchen. It's just down the hall.” The girl pointed to where the kitchen was then returned to watching TV in the living room. 

James walked towards the kitchen. He saw the aging man sitting alone at the kitchen table. He was staring out into the backyard where his younger grandchildren were running around freely. 

“Alexander Trevelyan?” James asked. 

The man looked up. He looked confused. “Yes. Who are you?” 

“My name is James,” he said, “I wanted to ask you about an orphan you sponsored.”

“Alec?” 

James nodded. He was surprised the elder Trevelyan immediately remembered him. “I used to work with Alec. He was a good friend of mine. The tenth anniversary of his death is coming up and I want to learn more about him to honour his memory.”

“Did you work with him when he was in MI6 or the service?”

James was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. “You knew Alec was in MI6?” he asked. Outside of his coworkers, Alec had always been tight-lipped about his involvement in the intelligence community. He was Alec from Universal Exports and just like the rest of the Double-Os, had the business card to go along with it. 

The elder man chuckled. “I wrote his letter of recommendation to join the Double-O program.” The man paused. “Judging by your clothes and your demeanour, I’d say you also worked with MI6 as well.”

Whoever this man was, he had a deep, intrinsic knowledge of MI6 and Alec’s history. That knowledge could only be obtained by high-ranking personnel. James knew he had to be careful. “You were in MI6 as well I presume,” he asked, ignoring his previous statement about his own place of work. 

The man shook his head. “I served in the army. I had friends in MI6 who helped keep an eye on the lad. Since you worked with Alec I’m sure you know he served in the Royal Marines. When he wanted to join the Marines at 15, I helped pull a few strings to get him in.” He winked at James.

“Why do you care so much about Alec? He’s never mentioned you before.”

“Alec wouldn’t remember me. Last time I saw him, he was probably only two or three years old. I don’t think I would even recognise Alec if he walked through my front door. To answer your question, his parents were good friends of mine. When they passed away, I made a promise to God that I would look after their son. My work in the army meant I wasn’t able to visit Alec but I’ve always looked over him like a guardian angel.”

“Did you know that his parents were Lienz Cossacks?”

Alexander nodded solemnly. “I was there at Lienz. I was just a young Lieutenant at the time. I became friends with one of the younger Cossacks. He was a junior officer like me and was one of the few that spoke English. When they told us to round up all the Cossack officers and hand them over to the Reds, I couldn’t do it. That night, I snuck Nicholas and his fiancee out. I gave him an extra uniform and my ID and told them to make their way to Cornwall because it’d be safe there. They made it and moved into the house down the street from my parent’s place.”

Alexander’s statement confirmed James’s previous theory. A sympathetic young officer had helped them cross into the UK all those years ago. The British might have betrayed the Cossacks but Alec’s family had been spared by the actions of a British officer. 

“Since you know his parents were Lienz Cossacks, I’m sure you know what happened to make poor Alec an orphan,” the man continued, “Nicholas was wracked with guilt for having escaped to England. He was ashamed of his survival. I watched him slowly turn to alcohol. Things improved when Alec was born. I thought he was doing better. Then one morning, I get a phone call from the constabulary that Nicholas had killed his wife then himself.”

“Why didn’t you adopt Alec then?” James asked. 

“I would have but my now ex-wife refused to sign off on it. She claimed we couldn’t afford to have another child. I loved Alec like a son though. I did everything I could to take care of him. My one regret in life is that I never got the chance to tell him how much I loved him.”

“Alec was a true hero,” James stated. 

“He gave his life for this country. His actions will sadly never be acknowledged.” Alexander looked down at the table, tears forming in his eyes. 

“Thank you for answering my questions,” James said, “I’ll see myself out now.” 

“What did you say your name was again?” Alexander asked. 

James turned back around. “Bond. James Bond,” he replied.

The man chuckled, wiping the tears away. “That’s funny. A man going by that very same name came and visited me two weeks ago. Asked the same questions about Alec.”

James looked at the man in confusion. “What did he look like?”

“Blond. About your height. Had a lot of scarring on one side of his face. Looked like chemical burns.”

It took everything for James not to tell the elder Trevelyan that the man who visited him two weeks ago was his dead surrogate son. 

* * *

It had just been over a year since the GoldenEye incident. James had tried to move on from Alec but he found himself lacking the same determination as before. He found himself questioning his assignments, much at the annoyance of M. James had dedicated his life to Queen and Country but where had that gotten him? A life of loneliness and sorrow. 

Today had been a long day. He had spent most of the day doing paperwork at his desk. More importantly, today marked the tenth anniversary of Alec’s “death” in Arkhangelsk. Since being released by Alec, he hadn’t seen or heard from him at all. Nevertheless, he had kept that promise. He told no one of Alec’s survival. Janus continued to operate but they shifted towards selling arms to local gangs. Along with the shift was MI6’s focus. “Janus is no longer a concern for us,” M had said during a briefing. 

James picked up his mail and walked back to his flat. He threw the small stack of envelopes onto the dining table. He was tired and would deal with everything tomorrow. As he walked away, a flash of colour caught his eye. 

It was a postcard with a photo of a large palace. James picked it up and scanned it. He immediately recognised it as a photo of the Winter Palace in Saint Petersburg. 

James felt his heart begin racing in his chest. He flipped the card over. Written in blue ink, there was a single phrase. 

_For me, James?_


End file.
